


Conquered

by mneiai



Series: Season 8 Is A Mess And I'm Trying To Deal [8]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dark Daenerys Targaryen, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Minor Character Death, Not Beta Read, Post season finale, Spoilers, canon-typical incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 10:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18892606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mneiai/pseuds/mneiai
Summary: Only death can pay for life.





	Conquered

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, still just frustrated as hell about how awful the finale was lol

Only death could pay for life.

But Daenerys had killed so very, very many. 

As the molten rock of the mountain covered her slim form, burning away her clothing, it cauterized her wound as well, sealing it, healing it.

Drogon's roar brought her back to consciousness, her eyes snapping open, the memory of Jon's tearstained face still burned into her mind.

It took her days before she was strong enough to leave the pool of lava on her own, weeks before she could walk, months more before she could do even more than that. She scavenged the land for berries and roots, ate the burnt meat that Drogon brought for her, and plotted.

When she eventually fashioned something like clothing out of some of the tattered hides and climbed onto Drogon's back, he didn't even let her try to control where they were going. Instead he flew and flew on until...until they set down in the pyramid of Meereen, servants and soldiers running out to view them.

Few had actually seen her and she tried to keep her presence as secret as she could. Let them think Drogon had returned to one of the places he remembered as home as she and Daario and anyone else she could call upon plotted.

News from Westeros was slow to reach them, but she was already months behind. She laughed, long and hard, when she found out the fate of the kingdom she'd fought for--to be ruled by the 'broken' boy who had clearly setup the entire thing. She wondered if the nobles there even realized how well they'd been manipulated. 

And Jon, her sweet, traitorous nephew, had been sent back to the frigid North he'd been trapped in before. Made to pay for his loyalty to the Starks.

She supposed she felt more forgiving of him, knowing that he'd been just a tool to be used and thrown away to them, as she spent her nights in an empty bed despite the many who tried to fill it.

When she finally went back to Westeros, it wasn't to conquer, it was only to burn. She found Jon wandering between the Wildling camps and the castles of the Wall, trying to make the remains of the Night's Watch into some semblance of an organization again.

They caught him and brought him to her, but she did not listen to his words. His words had been too long the words of others, that he repeated because he had not known better. The Usurper's dog had trained him, after all, and Dany would need to break him of those chains.

She had him watch as she razed Winterfell and burnt its inhabitants to ash. Sansa Stark died begging for her pathetic life from her stolen throne.

"King" Bran had many enemies after the years he'd spent on the throne. No one found him a comforting King to have, many whispered of his sorcery, of his cold heart. Her own people had encouraged that, spies slipping from place to place, sowing discord. She was only using Bran's own techniques against him.

Yara was only too glad to have her Queen return, bitter that only the North had been allowed to secede, more bitter still after she'd learnt it was Tyrion behind Jon's attempted Queenslaying, and that Tyrion had lost nothing for it.

Bronn was easy enough to buy off, he had grown to dislike the level of responsibility expected of him and yearned for a life where he simply had a castle that others took care of for him. It helped, Daenerys knew, that he put his survival first. 

And Dorne, well, the Prince had not lasted long. The Yronwoods had been disliked by many and Oberyn's youngest daughters, bastards though they were, still lived. They had knelt quickly enough, furious that a Lannister was Hand still, that Bran had simply allowed the so-called Prince to rule Dorne and make choices for it, without once considering them or the other Houses of Dorne. Their kingdom had been an afterthought and the neglect bred discontent with the King.

The Riverlands burnt. It was always so very easy, she thought, for the Riverlands to burn. And the Stormlands knelt. Gendry had not forgotten who he had to thank for his lordship and had been suspicious of many of the Starks' movements after the falling out he had with the youngest girl.

King's Landing was surrounded by hostile forces or devastated lands so very quickly that Daenerys knew what she was doing must be right. Righteous.

She stayed on Dragonstone, which had been left cold and empty after her forces departed. There she had Jon share a room with her, pulling his pliant body into her bed every night, letting him drown his thoughts in their passion. 

It was there she found out that the wound he had given her, the healing that Drogon had seen to, had been a blessing in disguise--she had become pregnant, at last.

They were wed in the charred remains of the Sept, he was her King Consort now. The father of her future, legitimate children. The continuation of their family line.

As if they needed more proof, Drogon returned one day with dragon eggs. They were so unlike the one he had come from, these ones could never be mistaken for stone. They were fresh, alive, and Jon was as fascinated by them as she was. While she was making plans and plotting with her people, he was more often than not sitting by a fire, watching the eggs within it, entranced.

He'd been very quiet since she'd brought him back, since she'd broken his chains to the Starks and made him see the truth. She didn't mind, though. He clearly had little to say while they were in this awful land, the place their ancestors should have never bothered with. When they returned to their true homeland, to Essos, he would recover. When he held their child in his arms, something that Bran and all the others had wished to deny him, he'd come back to her in full.

She left him on Dragonstone when she attacked King's Landing. He had reacted so badly the last time and this time she would not risk him being used against her once more. 

There was no mercy for those who had betrayed her, those who had tried to use her death to gain their own power. And no mercy for the people who simply allowed it to happen, who sat in their homes and cared little about yet another Usurper on the throne.

King's Landing burned away to nothing, to ash and smoke. Drogon feasted on the burnt corpses as her armies looted what was left. Nothing had survived, this time. No traitors would crawl their way out of the ruins.

She watched from Visenya's Hill, smiling, a hand resting against the swell of her stomach. Now she could rest, now she could return home and conquer a continent that deserved her. 

Her ancestor had built a dynasty that lasted but a few centuries. Hers would not end so quickly.


End file.
